Julia
by protected-silverspoon
Summary: When did I get to become such a bad boy magnet? (Rolling Stones x Beatles)
1. Miss You

**1963**

"THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT LONDON!"  
Crowds screaming for more, sweat drenched from head to toe, a blistering headache - a typical day.

"Thank God we're finally back home!" exclaimed the ever so elegant Rita as she collapsed onto a couch in the bus. We were the first two, as per usual. Mick and the rest of the boys still having to deal with the fans, the ambushes, and whatever other shit there was to deal with.

"One more stop till we're home fucking free," I said. This has been the longest, most exhausting tour yet and with these bloody pansies on the rise, next stop might be across the pond. It would be fab and all but all I needed was a few nights away from these arses.

"Why, ello luv!" Mick whispered enthusiastically. I could only imagine how horribly exhausting it is to scream, sing, and give your all out on the stage every night for weeks at a time. At least it wasn't as hard for me and Rita to be back up as it was for Mick to belt lines and lines at a time to please the crowd. And how Mick loved to please the crowd.

"Speak of the devil, eh Rita?" I mocked of my dear ol' cousin. She rolled her eyes and made space for her loving partner. Lucky for them. And though I do mean it in the most sincerest of ways, sometimes I envied my own cousin and his successful relationship while I on the other hand... Well, you'll see.

I averted my gaze as they went into a frenzy of eating each other's faces as the rest of the band pummeled through, seeking their own solace - whether it was a lover or just a comfy place on the couch. I settled into the u-shaped couch that wrapped around the interior of the bus as they collapsed beside me as well - Brian, Charlie, Bill, and...

Keith stumbled in with some new bird - again, as usual - so drunk and ignorant, he could look at each one of us in the face and not even take in the look of pure irritation and agitation we had. Not that he particularly cared.

Brian, who sat beside me, felt me bristle as I rolled my eyes and turned to the telly. The bus began to lurch forward, causing both Keith and the girl to laugh even more exuberantly. The shrillness of her voice made me cringe and scowl even deeper. The hatred I felt for the bimbo wasn't nearly as much hatred I had of myself for caring so much.

Just before Keith pulled her into the room in the back, he made it a point to lock eyes with me and wink. The bastard.

As soon as the door shut closed, I let out an irritated sigh. Who did he think he was? He was just a bloody prick with a guitar and a new girl every night. A bloody prick who thinks he can stomp all over me. A bloody prick that can never seem to leave my mind. I hate him. God.

Brian nudged me from my thoughts and gave me a look of concern, "You okay, Julia?"

I shook it off. He knew full well that all I needed to do was get home. And home wasn't so far away anymore. I leaned against him as the bus pulled away and headed home.

Home. As happy, joyful, ecstatic I was, all I could I could focus on was the ostentatious commotion taking place in the back room. I turned up the telly and turned away to tune out the world and sleep.

**A/N: Thanks for reading and review. Motivate me to write the next chapter? Sorry that our lovely fab four hasn't shown up yet, but they will very soon. I mean. Very soon. Thanks again! See you soon!**


	2. I Should Have Known Better

The moment I stepped onto that platform, I knew that this was a mistake. Fuck, the moment I left him gaping at me when I stepped out of the _house_, I knew that it was all a mistake. But that incessant taunting kept itself at an endless fucking loop, "_No matter what happens, Julia, you'll always be mine_."

That smug bastard. I hated how he referred to me as "his" like some pitiless woman out of the many collections that he had. Quite frankly, I was scared of the truth behind those words. No matter what Keith did to me, how much it hurt, and how much I say I hate him, I always hopelessly returned to him. I hated it. And I hated myself for it.

And so naturally, I ran... to nowhere. I got on a train with my sparsely packed things, and headed to the most inconspicuous town I could ever be at. All the while, my head filled with how empty my heart felt at the moment.

It was hard. To love. Now, it's hard to forget.

I stumbled onto the train right before last call was announced and searched for an empty compartment - the feat, surprisingly easy. Then again, I was headed nowhere. I looked at the ticket in my head, recalling the last blurred events leading up to the present - Keith coming over, talking and laughing like we used to...

The fucking kiss.

I was so sure that I had been way over him, and in that moment all that I worked on had gone to hell.

I glared at the tiny bag that I had barely managed to fit my valuables into before I finally took out my notepad and drew. Ink to paper was always my solitude. Rambling on and on about all my thoughts on paper through my doodles until I had no more thoughts to draw. I let my hand go free as it drew what I felt without a second of doubt. I barely noticed the commotion taking place until a voice shouted out: "'Ello!" to which I looked up and saw four young lads lying in a heap on the ground.

**A/N: Dun, dun, dun! Who could be those four mystery boys - though, I'm pretty sure it's no mystery. Short chapter before the action! :o  
****See you soon, and review! **


	3. It Won't Be Long

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the really late update. I had written the whole chapter, and when I came back from dinner, MY COMPUTER HAD RESTARTED. I was so upset beyond words I flipped over my desk and went crazy (more or less). In all actuality, I was just horribly disappointed and couldn't get myself into rewriting ****it... until now! :D Thanks for reading and review please! It'll get me writing faster :D**

"Fish and chips?" Ringo offered once we stepped of the train. Paul shook his head, "Nah, that's too typical, ain't it?"

To which John quipped, "Well, what do you expect, eh? We are in little ol' Liddypol, Paulie."

I smiled to myself at the boys' antics. One train ride had gotten the five us from awkward strangers to the best of mates in about 2 hours flat. John had even offered me a place to stay while his aunt was away for the weekend. Temporarily of course, I'd be looking for a flat straight away.

"Fish and chips sound gear, lads. It doesn't have to be fancy," I chirped as I trailed along beside George. He flashed me a grin and a wink, knowing that John wouldn't accept that.

John snorted as he fell back to put his arm around me, "Luv, your first meal here ain't gonna be anything as plain as fish 'n chips."

I rolled my eyes at the statement and at his action. "I'm game for anything as long as it's food, John."

"Anything?" he smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. Laughing, I shrugged his arm off my shoulder and moved past him to fall into step with Paul, "You wish, Lennon!"

This time he rolled his eyes as he caught up, dropped his arm around me again, and guided the group into the small fish and chips store we ran into.

* * *

"...if looks could kill, I'd definitely be six feet under from all the stares I had burning through me when I walked into that shop with you," I said to John while walking to Paul's house after eating. He gave me a smirk and a wink in response. I snorted at this.

"Well, you see, Julia," Paul began, "John's a bit of a..." he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it. John shot him a threatening look.

"A man whore!" George quipped easily, causing Ringo to snicker and John to slap the both of them upside the head.

"I am not," John replied snootily, "I'm just irresistible to the birds."

This caused all four of us to laugh at John's expense before they all settled into their own conversations. I tuned out, musing to myself how odd it was that I became friends so quickly with these lads from Liverpool I just met on the train. If I was stuck in that cycle of the Stones, this had definitely broken it. I just didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing yet.

I had been quiet for a while when we arrived at Paul's house. They immediately dived into the couches and picked up their respective instruments, while Ringo picked up a pair of drum sticks, all the while quarreling about who-knew-what. I smiled to myself. It had been a while since I had friends outside of the band, and to have these four now seemed to be just right for what I needed as of now.

I quickly sat beside Ringo, picking up a newspaper that had been thrown onto the coffee table while the boys began practicing, looking through the ad section for a room for rent.


	4. Something

"_Ohhhhh_, Maggie, Maggie, Mae! They 'ave taken 'er away!" John and Paul chorused loudly, causing the whole lot of us to giggle wildly. In my state of inebriation, I could hardly distinguish which was which. We walked down the streets of Liverpool, breaking the dead silence of the night by drunkenly quarreling about the lyrics of an folk song that had been passed through Liverpool over the years.

Deciding that it would be best to drop John and I off, we set on a mad adventure to find it while we were having a horrid case of double vision. Which in turn, caused us to double over every five minutes.

"What goes afta' tha'?" John mutters. After an hour of this, I noticed their Liverpudlian speak is only emphasized in about the fifth round of shots.

"Umm," George contemplates, putting a hand to his chin. Only I notice that Ringo had doubled over and I burst out in fit of laughter.

"Oi! When did I get 'ere?" he says, causing me to only laugh harder. The rest of the boys notice and join me before George attempts to pull him up, only to fall as well.

It was a few moments of this laughter before an angry voice shouted from the window above, "What do you lot think you're doing at this time of night?!" We all shared looks, holding in the laughter, before breaking into a sprint as the voice threatens to call the police.

My sides were splitting with both laughter and exhaustion as we finally made it to John's house. The other boys bid their goodnights as John and I made it into the house. And then the two of us were alone.

For all I knew, he could have actually been a serial killer intent on murdering me in his home. But I was way too tired and drunk to care at this point. I noticed the comfortable looking couch in the room and promptly crashed onto it.

Intent on sleep, I closed my eyes only to have it snap open in shock.

"Did you just hit me with that pillow?"

John smirked, "...maybe..."

I grabbed the pillow next to me and attacked him by aiming for the face.

"Oi! Not the face, luv!"

I cackled and hit him in the face again.

After about thirty minutes of this, we decided we were too hyped up to sleep but instead have a sleep over right there on the couch because well. Why not? And then I realized that in my depressed and overly anxious state, I had forgotten to pack my pajamas.

In my state of mind, I had no shame in asking, "John? Do you think I could borrow something of yours to sleep in?"

Looking back at it, I cringe at how easy I could have made myself out to be. But I thanked John for not judging me as he got something for me to wear - a plain black shirt of his and a pair of boxers.

He shrugged at my look of displeasure and said, "It's all I have, luv."

And then he slid off his pants and leather jacket and climbed onto the couch. I balked at him. Even in the pure intoxicated simplicity of the world I saw at the moment, I could not help but roll my eyes at John's unabashed openness.

"John!" I said sharply.

He smirked cheekily. "Yes, m'luv?"

"Is that what you're wearing?"

He barked out with laughter at my request. "I told you it's all I have. Unless you'd like me to wear less." He winked.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at his suggestion, but didn't protest any further. At this point of the night, I put all my inhibitions away and wanted nothing more to sleep. But John had other plans in mind. Crawling onto the couch lazily, I lay stomach down, while John sat up.

"So..." he drawled out. My eyes were closed at this point.

"Mhm," I murmured.

"How did you like your first day in Liverpool?" he questioned, settling down next to me as well. I could tell he was facing me, but my eyes were still too heavy to open. If anyone had walked in on us in this moment, they would think we had known each other for quite sometime. Even I had trouble believing I had known him for only one day.

"It was fab. _Gear_." I quipped, using the new vernacular I had learned from them. I could tell he smirked at this.

"How were your tour guides?"

"They're a nice lot... but there is one that just can't keep his mouth shut or his hands off me. Or his hair," I replied easily. He laughed loudly at the quip about him. I opened my eyes with difficulty, deciding that he won't let me sleep, so might as well enjoy the conversation.

"I know, that git Paul," John replied. I rolled my eyes at his defense but smiled at the joke all the same.

I turned to look at him and was surprised by the close proximity. Despite his tough, _perverted_ outside, he seemed so at ease with just lying down and talking. I supposed that he didn't often do this with girls. Or I supposed he didn't this often at all.

Then he asked the question I hoped to avoid. "So, what brought you down here to ol' Liddypol anyway?"

Taking a long breath, I seriously considered my next words. Do I explain everything? Do I lie? The exuberant night we had came to a sudden stop at the question that flooded in all my memories.

John seemed to notice my sudden withdrawal and opened his mouth to say something. But stopped. Probably because he didn't know what to say. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around me and didn't say anything else.

Maybe it was the surprising sweetness that he had - so unlike what he had shown me today. Like I said, it seemed that John didn't do this often. Most likely because he had other plans for girls in mind. Maybe it was all these factors that made me trust him in the time that I had barely known him.

I pulled away. "Let's play a game then," I said with certainty. "I'll tell you a secret, and you tell me one of yours. Yeah?"

He seemed to consider the options before nodding in agreement. I sighed deeply.

"Alright then. Me first."

**A/N: Pretty long chapter! Accomplished! Haha, just kidding. But anyway, read and review please! Anything to let me know someone, somewhere out there is reading. Tell me if you like the plot or if I'm going to fast or even something like "pecan peppermint popcorn". Next chapter is practically almost finished and I'll be sure to post it before Christmas :D Review and I'll see ya'll soon! **


	5. Polythene Pam

**A/N: Hey guys, quick update before the new year! I have the next few chapters begun, so no worries :D I feel like I'm going too fast with this plot so let me know in the reviews if you like it or you don't like it or... yeah! So read and review please! Even if it's just to say, "Buttermilk guns shoot apples." Idk, anything makes me happy that you even read in the first place. Anyway, enjoy this chapter. Gets things moving on the John/Julia plot and gives more about what happened to Keith/Julia ;D**

I groaned loudly with protest to the stinging sun against my eyelids. My body ached and my head pounded. What had happened last night? Images of drinks and laughter and John... and John? and _John_ and _JOHN_ came flooding into my head. Where exactly was I? In bed?

And then I felt the pillow next to me grunt and shift before extending their arm around me. I snapped my eyes open to look, much to the dismay of my hungover state. The world around me spun wildly before the image came into focus.

...and I realized that the pillow next to me was not indeed a pillow. But the living, breathing, and deeply sleeping John Lennon.

Then did I remember, after the long night of practice the band had, they decided to end the night by getting pissed to celebrate my arrival, naturally. And it had ended with me and John falling asleep on the couch together after... a long talk. Just a nice long talk - fully clothed and all.

I exhaled the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

We didn't do anything but talk and sleep. Yet I still rubbed my face in irritation at my lack of guard. I had been this close to making the same mistake again. I had just met him and yet, I was so close to losing myself. My heart stung with the thought of everything I could have been, and failed to be. The thought of Keith.

Getting up from the warmth, I gently moved John's arm from around me and found covers to put over him before going to get ready for the day by beginning with a shower. I couldn't help it this time when my mind wandered back to the past. How long had it been? Two years? And yet here I was, in this stranger's home, crying over the same thing. Despite the saying, time had not healed my wounds - and despite how healed I could possibly be, my hard work and determination would still be wiped away.

I let myself get lost in my thoughts thinking of the things I wish I could change.

The accident had cost me everything. Years of studying, practicing, working for the spotlight all gone to waste the second I broke an ankle. Regardless of my high position in the company, I was gone in a second with no hesitation and replaced by some pitiless girl. And then what? What studio would take in an injured dancer?

And then there was Keith. The name to me was synonymous to betrayal, to heartbreak, to an eternity of broken promises. At the sight of me in need, he ran into some other bimbo's bed. So what could I do? I went to Mick. The only one who hadn't cast me out for being a failure.

I shook my head again. I couldn't do this. I had left everything and him, back home. I had left everything to get away from it. I was so tired of same past haunting my every step. But it was still there. I sighed before getting out of the shower.

I had done everything I could to change. And yet, as I stared at myself in the mirror, I realized I was still exactly the same. The same auburn hair, the same dull brown eyes, and the same broken heart. I scoffed at my lifeless expression. How did I become so cynical?

When I was ready, I saw John still fast asleep, snoring loudly and all. What was it about him? Last night, all the walls I had fought hard to put up came crumbling down in a heartbeat. I smiled at the peacefulness that took over his face.

Love at first sight? I could laugh at the thought. It was probably the same reason he told me his demons too. He was hurt badly. And so was I. Naturally, we were drawn to each other.

Shaking my head of the thought and blaming it on the inebriation of the previous night, I headed into the kitchen. The least I could do to show my appreciation of his hospitality was to make him breakfast.


End file.
